"Welcome back," Holt said with a broad, inviting grin. He had an open soda can in front of him, and there were playing cards on the table. Jones had a small pile of candy and wore a friendly smile. It looked like they were playing poker.
"Your friend is built like a tank," Jessie said. "Any chance he wants to join the team? Evans is terrible at poker, so I hope he's better."
I stared at them in disbelief. The air was light and friendly. Soda and cards? I’d walked in expecting emotional warfare.
"I don't like poker," Evans said, rolling her eyes. "This nearly middle-aged woman prefers solitaire, thanks. Sue me."
Nobody glared at me or gave me that familiar look of disappointment that teammates and authority figures had favored in the past. I would have asked one of the twins to pinch me to see if I was dreaming, but they would actually do it, and I was already sore all over.
"Tell us everything," Holt said.
So, I did. I explained how Colin was right about trusting the beast to take us to Kane, counting on the connection that I somehow had with Kane. Talking about it out loud made me realize that hearing someone's thoughts from the Pocket Space didn't sound so wild compared with everything we saw in the Leftovers. I strove to keep my voice steady and calm as I related Kane’s condition when I’d found him, hating to let on that there was anything between us. There's nothing but friendship. Totally just friendship.
"The hooded figures were trained?" Jones asked, genuinely curious when I got to the aftermath of meeting up with Lyra's group. Colin made a "sort-of" motion with his hand.
"We're not sure who those people were or what they were," I confessed, secretly grateful that Jones was acting friendly and engaged. He obviously hadn't called Hindley. The rest of the story came out, with plenty of interrupting cheers and gasps from the twins at appropriate intervals. I relayed the story of the Ghost’s unfortunate demise, pointing out that it effectively cut off our way back into the Pocket Space.
Jessie let out a little gasp. "Wait. If they didn't know how to control the monster and just started lashing out at it, then there has to be another way in. You said that there were likely humans with powers among them and definitely vampires in the group. So, they either got in somehow, or they’ve been there since the beginning of the meld. Also, bringing someone back to a leader insinuates that this leader might be somewhere else and there’s more to the Pocket Space than you thought." She smacked her fist into the palm of her other hand. "There has to be a way back in there somehow. I bet you we could find a back door of sorts."
I lifted a hand. "I'm not sure we want to go running back there just yet, even if we had a way in. There's still the matter of dealing with the fallout from the mission. The Ghost won't be bothering anyone else from this town, but the Leftovers are still here." And we had the odd group of mysterious people to deal with. What did they want? We would figure that out later.
"You know, I did a bit of work in religious extremist groups before joining the supernatural division." Jones cleared his throat as all eyes turned on him. I was actually surprised. I hadn't known that about him, and I wouldn't have expected it. "It's not something I put on my resume, since it was just a short stint in a tiny fringe Bureau branch. All our funding eventually got cut as the program went to the federal government's jurisdiction. Still, it does strike me that they're using some of the same terminology as the cults I used to work with."
I leaned forward, genuinely interested. Holt had moved, making room for Colin and me to sit on the faded couch. "What parts?"
"The promise of a grand truth," Jones said with a firm nod. "They always sell you on something large-scale and seductive like that. It sounds like, in some ways, Jessica was really looking for answers, but she went about it the wrong way."
Holt frowned. "She was clearly suffering from something, to go to all this trouble." Their comments made my skin prick with anxiety. But… hadn't the Leftovers affected all of us, on a tiny level? I could tell when the Ghost was going to open a portal. My tongue felt like a heavy weight in my mouth. After their reaction to my confession about hearing Kane’s thoughts, I wanted to wait to ask Colin in private if he’d felt the creature’s portals, too.
"You know, I didn't think you guys would come back," Jones admitted after a small pause. He gave me an approving gaze. Up close in this room, he seemed less intimidating and frustrating. Something about him had changed… or something in me. "Glad I was wrong." Evans watched him, hiding a small quirk of her lips behind her cards. She had two aces, from what I could see. Solid hand. Somehow, things had worked out. I made a mental note to ask Holt what had transpired earlier in the day, but my brain was tired and sluggish.
The other Hellraisers took the hint. The twins demanded to stay in my room, although Jordan valiantly offered to take the couch so I could sleep in the bed without him shoving his feet in my face. Some things never changed. The minutes ticked by, and I settled into bed, but my eyes stayed wide open. Funny, how after such an exhausting mission, I could be up for hours, too wired to sleep.
I slipped out of bed and into my coat, then tiptoed quietly out into the corridor. Jessie never stirred. Jones and Evans were bunking with the other soldiers, since the twins had muscled their way into my room. Holt and Sylas shared the room next to
